


The Start of Something Good

by jeweldancer



Series: Cas and Dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluffy Destiel Fic, M/M, Social Anxiety, artist!Cas, demi!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeweldancer/pseuds/jeweldancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean meets a mysterious stranger in the bookstore, and invites him out for dinner. They exchange terrible pick-up lines. Really, this is ridiculously fluffy Destiel; if you like that, it's your cup of tea. Castiel has some social anxiety, but Dean is really nice about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Start of Something Good

Even though Dean felt like a loser for spending the evening hanging out in a bookstore, he reminded himself that Wednesday night in a bookstore was infinitely better than Friday night in a bookstore. He hadn't been to the place in several months, but on the way home from work that evening he suddenly couldn't face an evening alone with the TV and dinner for one. He drove past the Singer's Used Books sign and decided it was as good a place as any to kill a couple of hours. He wouldn't mind having some different books anyway.

Even though it was the middle of the week, there were dozens of people browsing the shelves intently. Dean thought that this place attracted a more hardcore book nerd than a regular bookstore. There was no coffee shop or huge display of greeting cards and gifts, just plenty of the written word. He wandered over to the "modern fiction" section to check out his favorite authors. Maybe he'd find something new.

He moved down the aisle, sliding carefully past the other shoppers. Nobody here seemed to care much about the regular social niceties, he mused, there was no "excuse me" or "sorry" as there would have been at other stores. He pressed himself against the bookshelf to avoid an elderly man who was taking up almost the whole aisle while staring at the John Updike section.

By the time he was halfway through the section, Dean was feeling a bit claustrophobic. He was trapped among a horde of book zombies. As he stared longingly toward freedom at the end of the aisle, another shopper tentatively entered the fray. 

Dean had to stop himself from staring openly. If he had a type, this guy was it. The stranger had dark hair, slightly long and a little disheveled. His face was almost angelically beautiful, and Dean couldn't understand why everyone else was still looking at books when they could be staring at this guy. Newly motivated, he managed to squeeze into a small space near the other man. Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he tried not to be too obvious. 

The dark-haired man knelt in front of the Vonnegut section and frowned slightly as he rearranged a few volumes that had fallen over. He was wearing a black cardigan with a skull pattern knitted on the back. Why the hell was he wearing a sweater in June? More intriguingly, he appeared to be wearing it inside out. Now or never, Dean thought. His voice cracked slightly as he asked, "You like Vonnegut?"

Smooth, Winchester, Dean thought. You can't come up with something more intelligent than that?

But the man considered the question thoughtfully. "I do," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "Although I already have these titles at home. I was just...well, arranging them. I like books to be in a straight line."

"I can understand that. Seems disrespectful to just scatter them around, right?"

"Exactly," the man nodded with satisfaction. He turned back to the shelf and adjusted a couple of the books, then sat back on his heels to admire the effect. 

Dean could see him losing interest already, so he tried again. "Last time I was here, I bought a Hemingway short story collection. I've read the hell out of it. Some good stuff in there."

"Hemingway," the man said softly, not making eye contact with Dean. "Hemingway is like a knife to the heart. A knife that twists. But beautiful nonetheless. Sometimes beautiful things hurt."

You got that right, buddy, Dean thought. "There's something so pure about Hemingway, though. So clean. You know?"

The man stared up at him from his spot on the floor, tilting his head slightly. The gesture was strange and alluring at the same time. Dean offered his hand to pull him up. "I'm Dean Winchester."

The stranger looked down at Dean's hand carefully before replying, as if he could read secrets there. "Castiel Novak."

"Castiel, would you like to, um, get some coffee or something? Talk about books?"

Castiel seemed surprised and apprehensive. "Why would you want to have coffee with me, Dean?"

Dean felt a wave of sympathy. "Well, you seem interesting, for one thing. But you certainly don't have to. I just thought...it'd be fun, that's all."

Castiel considered the matter for about thirty seconds, staring into Dean's eyes. "I'd like that very much, actually. Do you mind waiting while I pay for my books?"

"Not at all. What are you buying, if you don't mind my asking?"

Castiel showed him a copy of The Ghost Stories of Edith Wharton. "I've read this on my iPad, and I liked it enough that I wanted a real copy."

"Yeah. It's always better having something you can hold."

Castiel blushed slightly. "I'll meet you outside?"

Dean waited near the store entrance next to the bin of free books. An older lady was sorting through them in a determined manner. "I'm always hoping to find something good, like Anne Rice or something," she informed Dean. 

"I've never read Anne Rice," Dean told her.

The lady looked slightly shocked. "Well then, if I find one, I'm giving it to you." She renewed her search, and Dean chuckled.

Castiel exited the building and immediately tripped over something nonexistent on the sidewalk. Dean grinned at him. "Be careful, man. Almost had to catch you there." Castiel blushed more fiercely now, and Dean extended his hands out to him. "Can I carry your books?"

Castiel shyly let him take the books. "My car's over there."

"So, Castiel. I know I said coffee, but I'm starving right now. What would you say to getting dinner instead? I can take you to a great diner near here. Best hamburgers you've ever tasted."

Castiel stared at him nervously, his mouth slightly open. Damn it, Dean thought, you've probably scared the shit out of him, he doesn't even know you and he looks like the nervous type. Dean looked away and asked casually, "Do you want to drive? Or do you want to follow me over there?" 

Relief washed over Castiel's face. That was it. He'd been unsure about getting into a car with a guy he didn't know driving. "Um. You can ride with me. If you don't mind the mess. My car is full of books and art supplies and stuff."

"Hey, that's fine. I'll just move the stuff over. No big deal." Dean gave him a reassuring smile.

Castiel's car was cluttered but clean. There was a stack of books in the passenger seat that he carefully transferred to the back. He nestled them beside a cardboard box filled with paints and brushes. He started the engine and music immediately flooded through the car. "Sorry," Castiel muttered softly and reached for the volume knob.

"It's okay, man. Driver picks the music, right? Who is that, anyway?"

"Elliott Smith. I've liked his music for a long time." Castiel relaxed a bit and let the music continue playing.

"Okay, you'll want to take a right at the next light up here. Then the diner's on the left."

Castiel pulled into the parking lot of The Roadhouse and parked on the back row. Dean sensed that he was still anxious. "You okay?" he asked softly. 

"Yeah. I mean, new places kinda scare me. And I'm still not sure why you want to hang out with me."

"Hey, don't worry about it. They know me here. And Wednesday night's never busy. There won't be a lot of people here like on the weekend."

Castiel inhaled sharply. "Okay. Let's go in."

Dean held the the door open for Castiel, and the waitress nodded to Dean. "How ya'll doin'?" she asked, and led them to a booth in the corner.

"So...Castiel. Is it okay if I call you Cas sometimes?"

Castiel's face lit up unexpectedly. "Yes, I like that name. It's what my sister Anna calls me."

"Cool. So Cas, do you like bacon cheeseburgers?"

"Who doesn't?"

Dean was pleased with this answer, and Cas noted that when Dean smiled, his whole face changed. He had pleasant crinkles around his eyes, and dimples on his cheeks. Dean motioned the waitress over and ordered two bacon cheeseburgers with fries. With this decided, they fell into an easy silence. Cas liked the fact that he didn't feel like he had to constantly be talking around Dean. It was okay if he didn't say anything.

They smiled at each other, and Dean cleared his throat. "So, man, that's a cool sweater. But it's really fuckin hot outside right now. Aren't you like, melting?"

"Oh. Yes. Well, sometimes when I feel uncomfortable, a sweater makes me feel more...protected. I know that's weird."

"I've heard much weirder things. But you do know you have it on inside out?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Why?"

Cas gave him a small, wicked grin. "Because who gives a shit?" And he peeled off the cardigan as Dean's heart skipped a beat because damn, Cas looked good in that black t-shirt. 

Castiel appeared to really enjoy the burger and fries, or maybe he just hadn't bothered to eat in a while. He was completely absorbed in his food and didn't talk much while eating. Dean was a little shaky after the cardigan incident. He dropped several of his fries, and got ketchup on his shirt because he couldn't stop staring at Cas.

"You saved room for pie, didn't you?" Dean asked after Cas had cleared his plate. "The pie here is the best."

"Of course," Castiel replied. "I don't even remember the last time I had pie."

"That's terrible. We'll have to remedy that immediately."

Dean ordered his tried-and-true favorite, pecan. Cas listened to the waitress describe all the flavors and ordered a two-layer pie: strawberry filling on top of a layer of cheesecake. It was brand new on the menu.

Dean's enjoyment of his pie was almost orgasmic. Cas couldn't tear his eyes away. "This pecan pie's always been my favorite," Dean said for about the fourth time.

"How do you know you won't like this better?" Cas countered. "Maybe if you try something new, you'll find you have a new favorite." He felt light-headed from the boldness of what he was about to do, then cut a bite of pie and held the fork across the table near Dean's mouth. 

Dean was shocked speechless by this move, but was unable to stop himself from opening his mouth and letting Cas feed him the pie. He couldn't believe that shy Castiel was being so forward, but he liked it. Dean licked his lips and said softly, "That is...really, really good." 

"I thought you might like it," Cas whispered. "Do you want more?"

"Absolutely."

Cas fed him the rest of the pie. Dean couldn't believe he was doing this in public, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. "It's all gone," Castiel said sadly. 

"We can get a piece to go," Dean suggested. Good Lord, where was he coming up with all these terrible pick-up lines? 

Castiel laughed kindly. "I think I've had enough pie right now. Maybe we could go back to my car and talk?"

Dean flagged down the waitress, told her he wouldn't be needing the check, and handed her a quantity of money sufficient to cover the bill and a very generous tip. He took Cas by the hand and led him back to the car. 

"Cas? I'm going to ask you something, and it's okay if you say no."

Castiel felt slightly sick. Dean was going to ask to sleep with him, and while Cas liked him, he had to know someone for a while and really trust them before he felt comfortable with sex. What if he told Dean that, and Dean didn't want to wait? Cas's voice trembled slightly and he replied, "Okay, ask me."

"Castiel, would it be all right if I kissed you?"

Cas was momentarily stunned. Dean understood his expression. "What, you thought I wanted sex? No, we just met and it's way too soon. I don't want to mess things up by doing something you're not comfortable with."

Cas whispered, "Yes, you can kiss me."

Dean's face lit up. He leaned in, cradled Cas's face in his hands, and kissed him sweetly and gently. He tasted and smelled and felt like everything Cas had ever wanted. Dean slid his hands down to Castiel's shoulders and leaned away. 

"Oh," Cas said softly.

"Yeah, exactly."

They sat like that for a few moments, Dean gently rubbing Cas's shoulders.

"Can I see you again, Castiel?"

"Oh, most definitely. How about tomorrow?"


End file.
